Evening,
It came on Saturday evening. Mr Warehouse had spent the day putting up a TV bracket for the living room taking nearly four-hours and now we were sat cosily on our sofa with the dogs, curled up in blankets watching Saturday night telly. I had been quietly contemplating visiting my Scottish Grandmother in Hospital since Friday morning, however, the weekend was nearly halfway through and the last visit I wished I hadn't have gone.
Walking into the building the whole place seemed quiet and less busy than I would have imagined it being. The ward smelt like bleach and chlorine, clean and clinical although stepping into the room my Nanna was in, donned in a plastic surgeon gown and face mask (even though studies show they don't make a difference when it comes to COVID-19 Coronavirus), she seemed peacefully asleep. Sat in an almost biblically white room, angel-like as she lay in bed with her hair white as snow and blankets piled high. She looked comfortable. And yet despite all this, I struggled with the fact that she barely said anything. From a woman who struggled to zip it (she was a talkative soul), to now see her coldly silent, it was chilling.
I said to myself that if she was more animated and talkative on Friday and Saturday then Mr Warehouse and I would visit on Sunday. I didn't want to see her like that again, but if she was talking more then maybe that would make that memory fade more into the background when she had gone. Uncle Golf had said that the nurses and doctors had changed her medication and this had seemed to put a little spring in her step earlier on in the week so it seemed positive. However, on reading that message, I knew I would never get the chance.
"I am sorry to have to tell you that at 6.15pm this evening Nanna passed away peacefully," the message read. "She will now be with Granda and her family in heaven, looking down and smiling on us all" it continued. My heart broke. I did not cry, but of course, I was very sad. All of those ideas and thoughts I had in my head sitting in her rocking chairs together as we watched some old black and white movie as I cradled my swollen pregnant tummy someday, or maybe how she would cooe over her great-grandchild. The closest I got was her meeting my fur child, Frankenstein whom she was quite fond of, always asking about him when I called, even let him lick her face and cuddling him like a baby.
All of it seemed to pale into insignificance as I chatted away several hours later with my Auntie who had called to check up on me. She explained that both her and Uncle Golf had sat either side of her bed, in that heavens foyer of a room, talking about shoes when all of a sudden Nanna took a long deep breath and sighed.
"That's a bit of a long pause between breaths," they thought, chatting away. Calling in a nurse, and then a doctor, and then someone else, they confirmed that yes, Nanna had taken her last breath, listening to her beloved children twitter on about shoes. I am sure she would have found it comical.
And that was that. Nothing more, nothing less, a simple slipping away to heavens gate. But I should be grateful I and others got a chance to see her one last time. I remember how I kissed her on the forehead goodbye I told her it was OK to go and to say hello to Granda for me (he died when I was only four-months-old). She sighed and made a slight noise, but I am almost certain she didn't know who I was or why I was there. And now she is with him. What the future holds? Not a clue. I feel awkward asking about a funeral as she is barely cold, but with me being the only one running the department for the last couple of days with little help or support and the phones busy, work was one of the things I selflessly thought about.
As we now enter week number four of lockdown in the UK as we battle the dreaded COVID-19 Coronavirus and with Boris Johnson (Britains Prime Minister) only recently been released from intensive care in hospital, Downing Street announced late last week that we are still amongst a state of national emergency. Continuing the message to stay at home and save the NHS, Lockdown was being extended. The BBC reports that restrictions in the UK will continue for "at least" another three weeks as it tackles the coronavirus outbreak, concluding that a review of relaxing the measures now would risk harming public health and the economy. The UK recorded death toll is now standing at over 16,000 - The population of places like Cirencesterin Gloucestershire, Penzance in Cornwall or my very own home town.
BBC.co.uk continues that the strict limits on daily life - such as requiring people to stay at home, shutting many businesses and preventing gatherings of more than two people - were introduced on 23 March, as the government tried to limit the spread of coronavirus. What that means for funerals? But looking online there seems to only be guidance from the media and newspapers. Nothing from Government. Reading on Metro.co.uk that weddings, baptisms and other ceremonies are being stopped during the coronavirus lockdown, but funerals will still be going ahead. However, it is unclear that, death from COVID-19 or not, lockdown measures including a ban on social gatherings of more than two people makes it a complicated time to cough it (excuse the pun) and the government still has yet to clarify how many people will be permitted to attend a funeral during this time or if only close and immediate family members are aloud only. Advice from the National Association of Funeral Directors (NAFD), said that whilst they have reached out to the Government to clarify a number of questions, including the maximum number of people that can attend a funeral, the initial advice is to arrange funerals over the phone wherever possible, restrict attendees to immediate close family only as well as respecting social distancing guidelines.
And so as the strange times continue for another few weeks yet, for it will get worse before it gets better, especially where my mother is concerned. But alas, I have to laugh and think about what my Scottish Nanna would say - "At Least that's one RSVP you won't have to chase"
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Hello,
With less than a few days until his operation I thought I would again try and teach my puppy some valuable life skills, like how to conduct ones self when in a peculiar environment whilst containing bowel movements, sitting in the front seat of a moving vehicle whilst not being sick or having a pampering sleepover round your Mom's friend's house as they all sit around chatting shit and smoking like it's1984 their in a seedy nightclub.
I wouldn't say it was the best experience he has had, however, that being said it certainly went a lot better than anticipated. I started our trip as I normally do stopping off at Nanny Pumpkin's for a coffee and a biscuit. We chatted about mine and Mr Warehouses new edition since she had not yet met our little bundle of fur, cooeing over him like a new baby and admiring him from a distance. Truth be told I don't think that my Nanny Pumpkin is much of a pet person especially that of dogs. I assume, partly from what she has told me and partly from my own judgement that as a military family they were surrounded by families who would get a dog or a cat and then have to give it up several weeks later when they moved army barracks only to be disappointed when Mittens or Rover could not come with them. I do recall somewhere that my father and his brothers had won a goldfish at a local fair and that my Nanny Pumpkin had agreed to let them keep it. If I remember correctly that the goldfish met its end in the same way many do with one flush and a toilet burial.
I briefly saw my aunty, uncle and cousins as they had also popped by to see me and the new puppy, after which I tried to dash over to my other Nana's to see my uncle and her before my uncle went to go and play golf. I knew before even stepping foot inside the jazzy carpeted house that she had lived in for the last decade or so that my Scottish Nana would be much more reciprocal to my baby-pooch. I knew for a fact that my Nana had grown up in the harsh reality of postwar Scotland with Jack Russells and other dogs, always a good companion for running across summer fields and icy winter walks. Picking him up she cuddled him like a toddler and even let him lick her face which I know a lot of people detest.
I thought to myself as I listened to several of the same stories as I had before over and over again that ultimately these will be the moment I will cherish once she is gone. In her mid-80's now her soft white curls seemed to wiggle whenever she would laugh about some of the good times that she used to have back in her younger years. We spoke alot about my upcoming wedding next year and discussed a lot about her wedding and how different it was back then.
I never knew that my mother's parents met when my Granda had come to stay at my Nana's house with her family as he was working locally in a small Scottish village near the border of England. After several weeks, work took my Granda elsewhere in the country but before he had left making sure that my Nana kept in touch. Several weeks later my great-great-grandmother (my Nana's Nana) fell ill and in her final few moments shared some wisdom that it would not be the last time that my Nana and my Granda met. Sure enough, following the funeral, my Nana sent a letter to my Granda informing him of the death in the family. Soon enough they were writing every week to one another and slowly but surely over the week's their friendship turned to love and grew stronger.
Just over a year after meeting, work brought my Granda back into the area again and they met again. This time my Granda asked my Nana to marry him. Wonderful news and exciting updates for the families, except for there was one big problem. He was Protestant and she was Catholic. From my very basic understanding and knowledge of either side, They worship the same God, but the principles of their faith are different? In any circumstance, my Nana's parents were not having any of it and refused the relationship, even so much so that after fainting and falling over, my great-grandmother forced my Nana (woozy on pain medication) to write a letter to her fiance telling him that she no longer wanted to marry him.
Had my Nana's sister not said anything then I may well not be here sharing the story with you. Several months later after multiple letters whilst my Granda was away working my Nana went to go and meet him. Stepping off the bud from a nearly thirty-mile round trip, it was like they had never been a part and without a moment to spare my Granda took my Nana by the hand and they went to buy a ring. Now telling her parents wasn't easy and after moving away to be closer to him she had upset her parents greatly. So much so that by the time the wedding rolled around a few weeks later, none of her family turned up, not even her father to walk her down the aisle. My Nana didn't wear a white dress and instead opted for a traditional shift suit with a boxy coat all in traditional tartan tweed. Every person in the Church in Oxford was from my Granda's side of the family and a few friends. And all because he was Protestant and she was Catholic.
Her black and white wedding photos were certainly something to look back on and cherish as she recalled and remembered how the day went. And as my little fur baby fell asleep hold-up on the jazzy carpet I thought about how this could be me in a few decades time, remembering all the fun and joyous moments I had with friends and family at my own wedding. I think that it is certainly moments like this that I cherish just talking and in a way getting to know my Nana before she was a Nana. Finding out all those little things that makes her who she is and in a way trickles down the tree, making me who I am and who my children will be.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
